


loud and clear

by kinpika



Series: McGenji Week 2016 [6]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Laughter, M/M, McGenji Week, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 12:58:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8402596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika
Summary: McGenji Week 2016Day Six Prompt: LaughterMcCree is sleepy, sleazy laughter, pulling at the sheets to clean Genji up, not caring about himself.





	

It starts with a giggle. A misplaced one, considering the circumstances, but that slight lilt to his voice begins to jump, unmistakable in pitch and depth. Genji rocks back on his heels, squinting as McCree does not remove his arm that was determined to hide his eyes, but can see how his lips curl upwards at the edges. Laughter.

“You are _ticklish_.” Realisation dawns on Genji, as he presses his fingers into McCree’s sides once more. How bizarre for a man like McCree to snort, hands going to Genji’s wrists to stop him. But it’s too late, he had been exposed. 

“So what if I am?” McCree is trying his best to sound gruff and unimpressed, but it was no use. Wriggling out of his grasp, Genji lowers himself, to lay beside McCree. Flat hand on his belly, a peace offering. Promises.

Until he digs his fingers back into McCree’s side, pushing at the skin as McCree honestly squeaks in surprise, rolling them both. Despite the advantage in weight and height, Genji had been grappling far longer, and rolls them again, a swipe at the gut for good measure. Under arms. Feet. McCree is red in the face and breathing heavy and Genji can feel it all on his loosened visor, puffs of air against his cheek. 

“Heavy,” he manages, when McCree slumps, worn out and embarrassed. 

Mumbling against his chest, McCree finally turns his head, until the flat of his cheek is pressed against metal. “Stop moving.”

Genji’s only movements are the _pit-patting_ of fingers along McCree’s spine, tracing each line and bump, before directing along old scars. Avoiding the ribs, for McCree’s sake at least, Genji slides his hands down further, until he’s brushing the dip before the swell, where McCree’s jeans don’t quite sit flush with his skin. Teasing the skin there, Genji peers over McCree’s shoulder, watching himself as he pushes the jeans higher, getting his fingers in to massage and taunt. 

Grunting against Genji, McCree finally manages to find some strength in his arms, pushing himself up enough to stare through one open eye. Assessing the situation. It was not like him to be so cautious, and Genji follows the band of his pants, noting the lack of underwear in the process. Sliding his fingers to the front of McCree’s jeans, Genji pops the button and pulls down his fly, just as McCree works the last of the catches on his visor.

Genji does hear his visor go skidding across the floor, but he also hears the sound of McCree chuckling into the kiss. McCree doesn’t kiss like he normally does, all deep and wet and panting (kind of awfully adorable). This time he kisses like Genji remembers how he used to kiss at sixteen, like he knew what he was doing, and it has him laughing that even after years of being together, McCree was still a bad kisser. 

Slipping a hand into McCree’s hair, Genji encourages him to tilt his head a little to the left, just like that, while his free hand is in the front of McCree’s pants now. Genji figures he should’ve warmed his fingers at McCree’s grunt, but murmurs a slight apology that does nothing to stop him from sliding over the head of McCree’s cock, cold fingers and all. 

His turn to laugh, at the way McCree’s eyebrows draw together, not at all as enchanting as all those photos made him out to be. Pressing his lips against the skin, Genji twists his hands, and feels the moan simply resonate through McCree. Easy man. Good man. Genji smiled. His man.

McCree is a talker, however. Another part of his ever increasing list of charms. Time together and apart, before being brought together once more had meant Genji found new things. From when they were younger and angrier, to being older and wiser. Those few moments of being entirely human and in McCree’s arms were still etched into him, no longer a yearning that drove them apart. Fragile, treasured memories. 

Genji does not linger on the sentimentality, however. McCree won’t stop speaking, low and throaty, compliments. He is sure at one point McCree even squeezed his ass, saying something or other about how he loves it, and Genji rolls his eyes. At least McCree had stopped with those horrible puns of his about cowboys and riding. Most of them went over Genji’s head, as they were usually garbled English sentences broken up by groans. Nothing quite stroked the ego these days quite like riding a man into incoherency. Especially more so, when said man was reduced to a sobbing mess when he was the one taking it up the ass. 

Genji did admit that he missed McCree’s cock in that particular way, especially years on. It wasn’t a terrible need these days, of course (and he was fairly sure it was physically impossible, and Genji wasn’t quite sure he was brave enough to even ask Angela for _advice_ ). Maybe it was the dulled senses, the way he had been deconstructed and rebuilt, a weapon that still maintained some humanity. Having spent years trying to work out just how much of a human he was, compared to machine, had shown him that. 

But McCree writhing against him was just as good, as was taking such a big man down. Ego inflator, definitely. The grin creeps onto Genji’s face, as he squeezes McCree’s ass with one hand, the other purposely slowing it’s strokes. McCree is bucking and close, already (‘trigger-happy’, is what Genji had quipped once, that earned him a cold shoulder for a good week). 

“Drawer,” McCree breathes, and Genji is surprised he can make out a word that was actually in the English dictionary. Yet he entertains him, releasing him in the process. Perhaps that was the longest, most pitiful moan he had ever given, but Genji gives him a very pointed look, before rolling over, hands going for the drawer.

A prepared man. How embarrassing. 

Genji is all quick and practiced hands, as he slips a condom over his fingers, followed by lube. And McCree is simply patient and expectant, a light in the corner of his eyes as he towers over Genji, giving them a bad angle. He wasn’t challenging, not in any way, but McCree was McCree, and their relationship was built on give and take. So if McCree wouldn’t do the sensible thing and lie back, well, Genji wasn’t going to roll over either.

“Take your pants off, Jesse.”

McCree doesn’t (because why _would_ he), and Genji returns to how he was holding McCree just before. Except, this time a little more prepared and forward, teasing his hole with one finger, the other hand just that bit firmer on his cock. 

Slipping his finger in as he thumbs the head, Genji watches McCree’s face, how he screws his eyes shut and bites his lower lip. His turn to let out something akin to a giggle, as he presses kisses over McCree’s skin, barely there touches. Enough to get that frown off his face, and to open his eyes. To capture Genji’s lips with his own, and kiss him terribly once more. 

A second finger joins the first, and Genji slips down to fondle his balls, until

“You came on my plating,” Genji states, plainly, as he stares down at his stomach. Removes his hands from McCree to simply raise them in slight shock.

McCree is sleepy, sleazy laughter, pulling at the sheets to clean Genji up, not caring about himself. Embarrassment shines on his face, however, as does the lines of tired through the deep creases around his eyes. Ah, Genji realises, he wasn’t going to last long anyway, no matter what. Not really, not at all, as he lands horizontal beside Genji on the bed, a fair distance from his own mess, and despite the frown Genji gives — he can _feel_ the stickiness, even if it’s just probably an associative memory — he lays back too. 

They’re quiet, and Genji is convinced McCree had fallen asleep. Slow rise and fall of his chest attests to that, giving Genji enough time to find his visor, snapping it back on. Breathing comfortably, even if it put a barrier between them. One day, he told himself, as he settled back on the bed. Genji too, is about to fall asleep, when McCree speaks up.

“Is there anything I can, uh, do for… you?” McCree’s voice is concerned, as if he had long been thinking about this. And Genji knew that was a possibility, as he was certain McCree spent more time beating himself up over Genji’s state than Genji did. 

From where he lay beside him, Genji watched as McCree seemed to beat himself up over speaking, despite having his pants around his ankles and knees still spread. And he was concerned with _Genji_. Nerves — real or fake, Genji didn’t know — snap crackle _popped_ at such a thought, deep sensations running through him that he associated with love. What a silly man, he muses, and laughs. 

“Stay with me a while,” he says, clearly and exactly, decidedly, hands reaching for McCree’s own. Despite the grumbling about the cold, and how he doesn’t think he’d be getting up anytime soon, McCree compiles, wrapping his arms around Genji, nice and firm.

Until Genji remembers, again, the state of McCree’s undress, and can’t help the snort.

**Author's Note:**

> i had to write pwp at some point for mcgenji and my fave kind of pwp it the one where ppl laugh so PERFECT PROMPT and I'm sure genji should've put his visor back on but u kno what w/e
> 
> also **fact:** mccree is a bad kisser but genji can forgive him (sometimes)


End file.
